


have no doubt in my brotherly love

by Jules1398



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, F/M, Guitars, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 01:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14485653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jules1398/pseuds/Jules1398
Summary: “I don’t play for girls,” William replied, though it wasn’t necessarily true. After all, he had only ever played that guitar for two people. One of those people was himself. The other person was, in fact, a girl, but she was long gone, her ghost still haunting him every time his fingers graced the strings.(or William's journey with his guitar.)





	have no doubt in my brotherly love

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Sister" by Tellef Raabe.  
> I was rewatching s2 and this idea just hit me so I went with it and I'm actually really happy w this fic so I hope you enjoy it <3  
> [come say hi!](http://crackandcanonships.tumblr.com/)

William received his guitar when he was six. At the time, it was far too big for him, but his dad informed him that he would grow into it, even though he could barely fit his small fingers around its neck.

It was dark brown with a blue and white headstock, which he thought was pretty cool, even though he liked the basic tan one that was given to his little sister.

If he had been the one to ask his parents for a guitar and to take lessons, then his father would have stepped in to say no. It wasn’t that they didn’t have the money, because they definitely did. He wanted his sons to focus on sports and academics, not music.

Luckily, Amalie wanted to learn. With her wavy brown hair and her shiny white smile, it was impossible for their parents to resist her. She had asked to learn guitar and, knowing that William would want to do the same, she asked if he could join her, and they agreed.

So, they walked together into the home of their teacher for their first lesson and were both ecstatic. Playing guitar would be fun, especially because they were going to be doing it together. Because William and Amalie were not just brother and sister, but best friends.

Even though he was a year older than her, whenever they were mistaken as twins, they just kind of went with it. William would have been honored to share a womb with his sister, as they shared everything else. They even shared a room, as Amalie managed to crawl her way into William’s bed every day to tell him about her friends and her class. They talked and talked until one of their parents barged into the room t tell them t quiet down and go to bed.

So it was only fitting that they share this experience with learning guitar. They could play duets together. William had daydreamed many a time about them being the new brother-sister musical duo on TV.

William looked back at the car before they entered the house. Niko was sitting in the passenger seat, glaring at them. He felt bad that they hadn’t asked if he could learn guitar with them, but they didn’t think that would want to do it anyway. Perhaps they should have asked him regardless.

When they entered the house, their private teacher, a balding man with thick-framed glasses, greeted them with a smile. Their mother paid him while they ventured into the living room, carefully removing their guitars from their cases.

“I’m so excited, William,” Amalie whispered, unable to hold back a smile.

He grinned back at her. “I’m excited too.”

Their teacher walked back into the room and clapped his hands together. “Okay, let’s get started. Now, we’re going to focus on posture and how to hold your guitars for this lesson, so I’m going to let you get the excitement out now. Pick up your picks and strum a few times.”

Amalie was quick, snatching her pick from her case and loudly dragging it through the strings, making the teacher cringe a bit.

William reached down slowly and grabbed his before bringing it up and slowly strumming. The sound wasn’t great, as he didn’t know any chords, but it was still  _ his _ sound. One day, he was going to be amazing at guitar. He could never give it up.

* * *

It was a year later and William was beginning to actually make music that didn’t sound that bad. He worked at it for hours each day after he returned from school and listened intently to everything his teacher said. He loved playing guitar. It was his favorite thing to do.

Amalie, however, had quit after only three months. She had donated her guitar to charity and convinced their parents to allow her to take up ice skating, which she was already starting to get sick of. William wasn’t too worried. She would find her passion someday, even if it wasn’t playing guitar or ice skating.

Amalie did her homework in William’s room every night as he played his guitar. She usually had difficulty focusing on her work, but his music seemed to soothe her, even though he wasn’t quite an expert guitarist yet.

They had been sitting there for about fifteen minutes when Amalie set aside her spelling homework and sighed loudly to capture William’s attention. 

His fingers paused on the strings of the guitar. “Are you okay, Amalie?”

She shrugged. “I’ve been in a fight with Mari.”

“Why?’ he asked.

“She like likes a boy in our class, but he has cooties,” she explained. “I told her that, but she won’t listen to me and now she’s mad.”

“If he does have cooties, then she’ll figure that out eventually,” he pointed out. “I mean, Chris told me that they’re super duper contagious.”

“I don’t want her to get cooties,” Amalie pouted. “And I don’t want her to be mad at me.”

“You’re best friends. She won’t stay mad forever,” he informed her.

She shook her head. “No. She’s not my best friend, William. You are.”

He couldn’t help but grin. “You’re my best friend too, Amalie.”

“Will you write me a song someday?” She requested. “When you’re better at guitar?”

“You’re my little sister. I’m gonna write you a million bajillion songs,” he promised her.

* * *

William started writing her a song the very next day, but he couldn’t finish it in time. It was never good enough, and he always found ways to improve it. He added things, took things out, and even started over from the beginning a few times. Time seemed to fly by as he attempted to piece Amalie’s song together and then, suddenly they were both climbing into a car with the eleven year old older brother. William and Niko walked out of that car with bumps and scratches. Amalie, well, she didn’t even make it to the hospital.

For the first few nights, he couldn’t even sleep in his room. Instead, he slept on the couch, flipping around all night, unable to sleep without his little sister.

After her funeral, he finally found his way into his own bed, but he still was unable to sleep. William found himself staring at the guitar in his room, haunted by all the memories he had shared with Amalie.

Frustrated, William pulled himself out of bed and snatched the guitar up by its neck. He shoved it deep inside his closet and slammed the doors shut before returning to bed. He still was unable to sleep.

The closet didn’t fix things. Day after day, he saw the cursed instrument whenever he got dressed, and his pent up frustration built up even more.

And then, there was his mess of a family. His parents had been fighting ever since her death and were now getting a divorce and, since they didn’t want to look at either of their sons, they were planning on hiring an au pair for each of the boys and moving away. His mother was headed to a new home in the suburbs and his father was leaving the country as soon as the paperwork went through.

It was the dead of night, but William was unable to sleep, as usual, so he crept into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

When he turned on the lights, his mother was already sitting inside the room, a bottle of vodka in her hand.

“Did I wake you up?” William asked, concerned as to why she had been sitting in darkness.

She shook her head. “Sometimes it’s easier to not see,” she explained, as if it would make any sense to him. “Why are you up? Did your dad forget to put you to bed?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he told her. “I came in here to get a glass of water.”

“Should’ve kept the lights off,” his mother grumbled. “If they were off, then I wouldn’t have to look at you.”

“I’m sorry,” William replied, looking down at his feet.

“You look just like her. Same hair. Same eyes. It’s awful,” she informed him. “And you two were always so close. Whenever I see you, I think Amalie is going to be two steps behind you, but she’s not. She never is.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated as tears started to slowly drip down his face.

“You know, you’re brother might have killed her. But you, William? You bring back her ghost to haunt the rest of us.”

William hit the light switch to turn them back off and ran back to his room, sobbing. He looked over to his closet which was hanging wide open, the guitar staring right at him, taunting him.

He ran to the other side of his room and reached into his backpack, pulling out a pair of scissors. Sure, they were made for children, but they would still do the job.

The tears blinded him as he continued toward his closet, scissors in hand. He snatched the guitar from inside and sat down with it, bringing the scissors to the strings. Each of the six strings snapped with a twang as he cut through them. When he was done, he shoved the instrument deep up his bed and threw the scissors in his backpack.

Lying on his hardwood floor, William was finally able to sleep.

* * *

The next time William touched the guitar was on the fifth anniversary of Amalie’s death. Over time, the wounds had begun to heal. Or maybe he had just distanced himself from them. Either way, every step he took was no longer haunted by her footprints. He was fourteen now, nearly an adult. He had to grow up and move on.

He had actually completely forgotten about it until he was cleaning up his room and found it under the bed, just as he had left it all those years ago. 

With a sigh he pulled it out from under his bed and slowly got to work on removing the broken strings. Once he had finished, he threw them away and ventured downstairs in search of his au pair, who he eventually located siping down the dining room table.

“Good morning, Anja,” he greeted, slowly shifting from foot to foot.

“William? At eight in the morning on a Saturday?” she teased. “What do you need, sweetheart?”

“I need new guitar strings,” he informed her.

She turned around in confusion, looking between him and the instrument in his hands. “I had no idea that you played.”

“I haven’t in a few years, but I think I’m ready to pick it back up again.”

Anja set her sponge down on the table and grabbed her purse and keys and soon they were leaving for the music store.

He was unsure as to what kind to get, so he asked the clerk who picked out a set for him and even restrung the guitar for him. When they returned to the apartment, Anja asked him to play for her, but he said that he couldn’t play for others and rushed into his room, shutting and locking the door behind him so that he would not be disturbed.

Bringing his fingers to the new strings, William hesitated. It felt like a big step, playing his guitar again, but he knew that he was going to have to do it because, if he didn’t do it now, then he never would.

So he did it. He strummed a simple tune on his guitar and, once he started, he was unable to stop. The music was absorbing William as he played nearly everything he knew. Everything except Amalie’s song.

* * *

“Bro, you always have that guitar sitting out but I haven’t heard you play it since we were kids,” Chris remarked one day when they were sitting in William’s room, trying to make plans for their Russ bus, which was tentatively going to be called The Penetrators, even though William thought it sounded a bit childish and that they wouldn’t be taken seriously. Chris had pointed out that they were first years and wouldn’t be taken seriously anyway.

“I play it, just not for you,” William informed Chris before lightly shoving him.

Chris frowned. “But I’m your best friend. You’re  _ supposed _ to play it for me.”

William shook his head. “It’s nothing personal, Chris. I don’t play it for anyone. At least, not anymore.”

He snorted. “You’re so broody. It’s just a guitar.”

“It’s more than just a guitar to me,” William shrugged.

“Can I play it?” Chris requested.

“Do you even know how?” he asked.

“I can try, can’t I?” Chris reached for the guitar, but William slapped his hand away before he could reach it. “What the fuck, bro?”

“Don’t touch it,” William said in a broken voice. “Nobody is allowed to touch it.”

Chris backed away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that it meant so much to you. I forgot that she used to play too.”

“It’s okay,” Willam told him. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“I’m not worried,” Chris assured him. “You’re good, bro. No worries.”

William stared sadly at the guitar for a moment, semi-aware that he probably looked like an angsty teenager. He kind of was one, so it didn’t really matter. He was working on shutting out the sadness but, in times like these, it was difficult.

“So, I was thinking we could make sweatshirts with our names on the back except one is in red and then we can gift them to the girls we sleep with,” Chris suggested.

His head snapped toward the other boy. “Chris, that’s a fucking stupid idea. Who the fuck would want a sweatshirt to show they slept with one of  _ us _ ?”

“We won’t be awkward first years forever,” he reminded him. “Besides, it’s like cheap advertising at Nissen. The girls won’t be able to stop talking about us.”

William snorted. “Sure, Chris. Whatever you say.”

Chris began to rattle on about some other stupid thing and William was able to smile a little. At least he had one person who cared about him. At least he had Chris.

* * *

When William met Noora Amalie Sætre, his entire world tilted on its axis. At first, she was just a pretty, confident first year girl, but he came to realize that she was more than that. Noora was an amazing girl that would do anything for her friends.

She said that she didn’t want him back, yet she would keep coming back to him. He called her beautiful and she couldn’t hold back a smile. She had him apologize to her friend for a date and, when they were on that date she pretended to be discontent with it, but he could tell that she was enjoying it. They both could.

Then, just a week after their date, William threw a party and she showed up near the end, just before the police came and politely asked him to shut it down. Eva ran off with her jacket so Noora stayed, just for a while since she was waiting for a response from her roommate.

William lived alone now, so he didn’t feel the need to lock his guitar away. There was no risk of Nikolai tainting it when he wasn’t even around. The party had been going strong, but still, nobody touched it. It was like they knew. They knew it was different. They knew that the guitar was special.

But, for some reason, Noora was drawn to it. She walked over and picked it up, and he didn’t get mad, not even when she accused him of using it to seduce girls.

She sat down on the couch and held it as if she was going to play it. “What do you play?” Noora asked.

“I don’t play for girls,” William replied, though it wasn’t necessarily true. After all, he had only ever played that guitar for two people. One of those people was himself. The other person was, in fact, a girl, but she was long gone, her ghost still haunting him every time his fingers graced the strings.

“Yes you do,” Noora said before plucking out a note. “It works. It’s a real one, then. You obviously play for girls.”

She continued to ramble on accusing him of playing certain things before playing them herself in a sarcastic manner as he smiled. Suddenly the memories of Amalie that he had been associating with the guitar began to fade as Noora overwhelmed it, her beauty casting light in the shadow of his sister’s death.

Then, she started playing for real, launching into “More Than Words” by Extreme. Her voice was beautiful, nearly as beautiful as her eyes, her lips, her soul. The world felt smaller, like it only consisted of him and Noora and William loved it. He loved how happy she made him feel, happier than he had felt since he was a child.

And the best part was, Noora stayed.

* * *

While they were together, William connected to music once again, in the same way he had when he was a child. It made him happy to play guitar, especially when he was playing for Noora. He played for her and she played for him and together they bonded in song.

When they left for London, it kept him grounded and when Noora left, he stopped playing again. Without her, there was no point. She was done with him. The guitar seemed like a cursed object. Everyone William played it for left him. Amalie died, Noora ran away, and it was like even he left himself, drifting from his emotions and turning into the same soulless shell he had been before.

He dated another girl for a short period of time, but it didn’t last. He had already found his soulmate and she had lost him. He knew that he had to let Noora go. She deserved to be with her friends. She deserved to be happy and William had to face the facts: she was probably happier without him.

Until he was wrong and he received an email from her, asking him to come back to Oslo. To come home. And, sure, it had actually been Sana that sent the message, but the feelings were there, as he learned from his chat with her. She still loved him. She had never  _ stopped  _ loving him.

Since he had thought to bring his guitar, he played it for her once more and, well he hadn’t picked it up in a few months, so he was a bit rusty, but it still felt amazing to him because he was playing for his true love.

* * *

Their wedding was fairly small, with only their closest friends in attendance. They hadn’t even bothered inviting their families, because they didn’t deserve to be there. William and Noora had turned out to be fantastic, no thanks to them, and they weren’t allowed to celebrate it with them.

The ceremony was beautiful and William would be lying if he said he didn’t cry just a little bit when he saw her in her stunning white dress. He knew that, after they said their vows, nothing would actually change, but it still felt big to him. Like it was more official.

When it was time for the reception, everybody was so happy. It was as if their joy had radiated from them and made its way to their friends.

Nobody other than Chris knew about William’s surprise for Noora. He considered consulting Eva about it, but he knew she wouldn’t be able to keep her mouth shut. She would tell somebody, whether it be Vilde of her boyfriend, Jonas. It would be impossible to keep the word from spreading to Noora. So, this would truly be a surprise and he wasn’t exactly sure as to how she would take it.

After Chris and Eva had given their toasts, William tapped his glass with his fork to gain the attention of the crowd. “I have a little surprise for my beautiful bride,” he announced, looking just to his left to see the surprised look on her face.

Chris walked forward with William’s guitar and handed it to him. William turned and faced her, so that she would be able to hear everything and know it was for her.

William took a deep breath before he launched into his own rendition of their song, “More Than Words.”

Tears began to drip down Noora’s smiling face and she even laughed a little. She loved it. She loved the surprise and, far more importantly, she loved him.

When he had finished playing, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his as their friends cheered on. He loved Noora, his  _ wife _ , more than anything.

* * *

Noora and William only ended up having one child. They had discussed what to name her for the entirety of the pregnancy, unable to find a name that truly would fit.

As soon as he laid his eyes upon her, William knew what her name was going to be. “She’s Amalie,” he simply stated.

Noora, who was smiling tearfully after her daughter was placed in her arms, nodded. “Yes. She is.”

And, with the beginning of the new Amalie Magnusson’s story, William knew that it was time for his sister’s ghost to be truly laid to rest.

On that very afternoon, which happened to be the fifteenth anniversary of the original Amalie’s death, William left the hospital for a few hours. He grabbed his guitar from his home and drove to the cemetery in which she was buried.

He couldn’t control the tears dripping from his eyes as he walked to her gravestone and sat right next to it, so that she could hear him, even though she wasn’t really there.

Wiping the tears away from his eyes, William set himself up to play and, when the time felt right, be began to play.

It was a song that he hadn’t played for years, but somehow he still hit each note with ease, even adding stuff here and there to make it sound better. He was finally fulfilling his promise. William was playing Amalie the song that he had written for her.

As soon as he struck the last note, it started pouring rain and he knew that she had heard it. William felt cleansed. His tragic past was truly behind him now and everything was going to be better. Sure, his sister had died and he had loved her more than anything for a time, but that was years ago. William had Noora now and, what’s more, a new Amalie had risen.


End file.
